


A Man Does What He Must

by heyjupiter



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-03
Updated: 2011-10-03
Packaged: 2017-10-24 06:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjupiter/pseuds/heyjupiter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Erik meets Victor Creed, and the last time Erik sees Victor Creed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man Does What He Must

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_q](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_q/gifts).



> Written for the 2011 X-Men Ficathon for the request: "Charles and Erik try also recruit Victor during the First Class recruit drive - he is not as polite as Logan."
> 
> Big thanks to aphrodite_mine and lilacsigil for very helpful and speedy betas!
> 
> Thanks also to aphrodite_mine for suggesting the title, taken from this Winston Churchill quotation: "A man does what he must - in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures - and that is the basis of all human morality." (Erik would undoubtedly alter it to read "mutant morality.")

Erik's thoughts were crystal clear. His mental processes were always enhanced by the adrenaline rush of danger. This was, perhaps, the first time on their trip that Erik had felt _afraid_ of another mutant. He and Charles had been all around the country in the last few months, and they'd seen all manner of mutants. A few had agreed to go with them. Several had politely declined their invitation to join forces with the CIA, not that Erik blamed them in the slightest for that. The last man they'd gone to see had told them to "go fuck themselves." Erik had privately thought that Charles's face upon hearing those words was one of the funniest things he'd ever seen.

But none of the other mutants they had encountered had been quite so angry as Victor Creed.

None of the other mutants they had encountered had wrapped their clawed hands around Charles's slender neck, drawing blood.

They were in an empty barracks at Fort Benning, a military base in western Georgia. Erik hated the American South. Hated the oppressive heat; hated the "whites only" drinking fountains that were still peppered about the region despite the best efforts of Martin Luther King and his brethren.

Erik considered the situation. He was a tall man, and a strong one. But he was certain he couldn't take on Victor Creed in a physical fight. Luckily, Erik had evolved beyond the need for fisticuffs. He stretched out with the extra sense of his mutant gift, looking for metal. He had Schmidt's coin, of course, but he was saving that. He found a knife in a nearby trunk. He used his power to open the trunk's metal latch and called the knife to him. It was a fine knife, a sleek hunting knife with a carved wooden handle and a deadly twelve-inch blade.

He let it hover in the air for a moment before sending it to press against Creed's neck.

"Let my friend go," Erik said. "Now." He let the knife press a bit more firmly against Creed's skin. Creed was tall and impossibly muscular. He easily weighed twice as much as Charles. There was an animalistic quality to his features, and he was baring his sharp, fanglike teeth. Mutants were more evolved than humans, but Creed looked less advanced than a normal human. He looked more dangerous than a normal human.

Creed laughed. "You think you can hurt me? You assholes don't know shit."

Erik let the knife cut into Creed's throat, and watched with astonishment as the wound healed before his eyes.

Charles took advantage of Creed's momentary distraction. He caught his breath and said, firmly, "Let me go." Erik had been with Charles long enough to recognize the certain intensity Charles's voice picked up when he was using his telepathy to brainwash someone. (Not that Charles liked the word "brainwash." He preferred "persuade.")

Creed blinked and released his hands from Charles's throat. "Thank you," Charles said, though Creed's action hadn't exactly been voluntary. "Erik, you can put the knife down." Erik grudgingly called the knife away from Creed. He set it down on the ground near his feet, holding out his open hands. He kept close mental contact with the knife, though, ready to call it back at a moment's notice.

Creed snarled, realizing that his prey had escaped his grasp. But he kept his hands at his side, occasionally looking down at his claws in confusion and frustration.

"Mr. Creed, I don't know why you are being so hostile," Charles continued. Erik wasn't at all sure why Charles was continuing the conversation. Erik rather felt that they should cut their losses and move on to the next set of coordinates.

But Charles pressed on, "How much longer do you think you can stay with the Army? How much longer can you pretend to be normal?"

"I ain't normal," Creed said. "I'm the best damn soldier in the whole damn army."

"But you could be more than that. You could come with us, and be part of a special team of mutants."

"Whole group of freaks, huh?"

"Mutants aren't freaks," Charles said gently. "We are the next step in evolution."

"And you got a whole bunch of 'em working for the CIA?"

Charles inclined his head in a nod. "There are several."

"How bout a man by the name of Jimmy Logan? Or James Howlett?"

"No," Charles said. "No one by that name."

Creed narrowed his eyes and sniffed the air. "But you've seen him, ain't you?"

"No," Charles said, his voice level.

Creed laughed. "You think you can lie to me? I can smell a lie from a mile away. Where's Jimmy? Where's my brother?" He lifted his hands, moving to attack Charles again. This time Erik was prepared. With his power, he transformed one of the nearby cots into a set of four cuffs, which wrapped themselves around Creed's wrists and ankles. He made a dismissive hand gesture and sent Creed flying back to the farthest wall of the barracks.

"You'll have to find him at the next family reunion," Erik called. He reached in the pocket of his leather jacket and offered Charles a handkerchief. Charles took it sadly and daubed the blood off his throat. "You can't win them all, Charles," Erik said. "Let's go."

They walked out of the barracks. Charles cast a single glance back at the huge, furious mutant. Erik made sure to keep Creed pinned to the wall as long as his makeshift cuffs were in range of Erik's power. He could feel Creed fighting the hold, but Erik's powers are stronger than Creed's brute strength. Erik wouldn't let Creed stand in their way.

 

* * *

On Liberty Island, up inside Lady Liberty herself, Erik easily pins the so-called X-Men to the statue's friendly metal walls. Adrenaline makes his thought processes crystal clear--clearer than Cyclops's, if the man is ordering Storm to strike him with lightning inside a copper statue. Erik has long been able to keep his focus under pressure.

He watches Sabretooth size up Wolverine, and he remembers his first encounter with each of them. The two men have forgotten each other, have both forgotten the first time they had met Erik.

Even if Logan's memories were intact, Erik wonders if he would be able to recognize Victor Creed. Stryker's grotesque experiments had so changed Victor. He had been animalistic before, but now the man is almost more animal than human. Still, Creed certainly has his uses, even if the U.S. Army and William Stryker no longer appreciate his talents. Erik briefly wonders what Creed would be like today if he had come with Charles all those years ago. Erik remembers how he had fought to protect Charles from Victor Creed that day in Georgia, how willing he had been to leave Creed behind, even as Charles had sought to understand his anger, to soothe the savage mutant. But now, Erik and Creed are fighting together to protect mutantkind.

Erik is surprised to see that Logan has joined the X-Men. In 1962, he had not been at all willing to join forces with anyone. Now, here he was, foolishly using those delicious metal-covered bones of his in a failed attempt to protect Rogue.

Well, no matter. Erik would do what needed to be done, and no one would stand in his way. He ascends to the torch, leaving Sabretooth behind, confident that he's capable of watching over Charles's hapless students while he and Rogue help mutantkind take a giant step forward.


End file.
